He’s the best underboss Salvatore could ask for, so that begs the question, why are we here?
The man in question chuckles and steps toward Dad, giving me his back. “Betrayal will always land you in hot water, Neil. You should know that better than anyone.”
“I’ve never betrayed you!” he snaps. “I’ve been by your side for decades. How could you possibly think I would betray you?”
“A little birdie tells me you know where Kingston is and haven’t thought it pertinent to tell me. You’ve been hiding the man that killed my wife, which can only mean one thing. You’ve been working with him.”
“I haven’t seen him in years! Hell, I’ve been the one feeding you leads every time we get something. Would I do that if I were working with him?”
Salvatore tuts, a sound I’ve only heard a few times when one of his sons has lied to him, and I’ve seen the beatings he’s given them over the years, which only adds to the chaotic emotions rioting inside me. “I might believe you ifanyof those leads had led to anything other than a dead end. But they haven’t, so I don’t.”
His fist rises, and I barely manage to press my eyes closed before the punch lands. If only I could have covered my ears as well.
The sickening crack sends a wave of nausea through me, but I can’t tell if it’s morning sickness making itself known or the stress of the situation weighing on me.
Maybe a little bit of each now that I think about it.
Mom’s sobs echo off the walls as she pleads for Salvatore to stop, but it’s clear to me that he’s made his mind up about my father’s transgressions.
There’s almost no chance we’re walking out of here with our lives, and that’s a reality I allow to wash over me in brutal waves.
“Ah, I’m so glad you’re here, son.” Salvatore’s words drag my attention to the doorway, hope filling my chest for a split second before cold eyes meet mine.
Damon stands with his shoulder propped up against the doorframe and his arms crossed over his chest like seeing three people he’s known his whole life tied up and bleeding is the most normal thing in the world.
I’ve lost count of the number of times my heart has been broken by this man, but when he unfolds himself and steps toward me, everything good we ever shared, every memory I have of our childhood, of the innocent love I’ve held onto, shatters into a million pieces right along with my heart.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
DAMON
NOW
Imove to the front of the jet when I can’t take Chloe’s sobs for another moment.
She knew this was coming.
She knew we would come for her eventually, and she should have known the second she saw us for the first time in New York that we weren’t just going to let a traitor walk away from us.
And yet she’s crying in the back like it’s a surprise?
Ronan isn’t helping matters with his sidelong gazes and the way he tenses when her cries get louder.
Even after all these years, she has the motherfucker wrapped around her little finger.
I’m going to have to keep him far away from the cellar when we reach Miami, because while he’s more than happy to cut off a man’s limbs for his betrayal, he won’t be able to handle seeing Chloe hurt.
Hell, the part of me that remembers the good times struggles, even if I’ll never admit that.
Just because I loathe her existence now doesn’t mean she isn’t a part of almost every good memory I have from childhood, much to my own dismay.
If I could wipe all those memories from my mind, I would have done it years ago. It would have saved me a lot of pain over the years.
Glancing over my shoulder, I find Chloe with her head down, tears still rolling down her cheeks. Surely she’s got to hit the acceptance stage sometime soon.
How long can the human body cry before the tears dry up anyway?
The urge to get her water from the fridge in front of me tugs at my chest, but I quickly shake it off. She needs to get used to being uncomfortable before we get back to the compound.
